


The Slice of Heaven You Gave Me

by theMolto



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Anal, Angst, Calm Down Erik, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Cherik - Freeform, Drama, Erik Has Feelings, Erik has Issues, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Friendship, Gay Sex, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Logan Is Tired of Your Shit, M/M, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 05:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4594350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theMolto/pseuds/theMolto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik laid himself down on the silken sheets. It felt like he was laying on rough concrete. He imagines Charles - laying next to him on the bed. Maybe the pillows would feel more softer, more comfortable. But it isn't. Charles isn't here anymore.</p><p>Charles could walk again. Although his knees refuse to work every time his feet touches the floor of Erik's room. He shuts his eyes tightly, willing the pain away. He has to accept that Erik wasn't near anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Not a Piece of Cake For You To Discard

**Author's Note:**

> I love Cherik. That's it.  
> Also, first fic, so please, take it easy.  
> My writing ability sucks right now, since I haven't wrote a proper story since like, years ago.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik laid himself down on the silken sheets. It felt like he was laying on rough concrete. He imagines Charles - laying next to him on the bed. Maybe the pillows would feel more softer, more comfortable. But it isn't. Charles isn't here anymore.
> 
> Charles could walk again. Although his knees refuse to work every time his feet touches the floor of Erik's room. He shuts his eyes tightly, willing the pain away. He has to accept that Erik wasn't near anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cherik. That's it.  
> Also, first fic, so please, take it easy.  
> My writing ability sucks right now, since I haven't wrote a proper story since like, years ago.
> 
> I don't have a beta, ;0;, and I don't know how I'll be able to find one tbh

Charles opened the door with numb fingers.

  
His legs, although they were working – with the help of rehabilitation – became unstable. His feet were light, as if he was afraid to disturb the quietness of the spacious room. He walked, albeit a bit wobbly, inside. The furniture was left as it was before, the quilt neatly covered the bed, with the pillows arranged accordingly, the whole room was still pristine as ever.

  
He walked near the large wooden cabinet, opening it. His hands started to tremble even more as an unmistakable scent enveloped his being. ‘Erik..’ Charles’ caressed the hanged clothes, his heartbeat becoming more erratic. His hands lingered for a while, until he decided to open one of the drawers inside the cabinet, showing him clothes that were folded crisply. He took out a black turtleneck and held it close to his chest.

  
A quiet sob escaped him. Teardrop by teardrop fell from his eyes, as his knees faltered. He slowly lost control over his legs until he can’t stand up anymore. “Erik..” , his voice, trembling “I’m so sorry.. I’m so sorry, E-Erik..” His whole body quaked violently from his agonized sobs. His fingers clutched the turtleneck tightly, as if his life depended on it.

\--

Hank sighed, the professor started to become distant again, as a way of escape. Although he was certainly more talkative lately, he sometimes blank out with a distant look in his tired eyes. Hank set down his chemistry book and decided to call it a day. He had been trying to study for an oncoming exam. Progress was slow, and he was tired from studying non-stop since morning. He should probably make some lunch for both of them already.

  
He would, however, appreciate if Charles would do some of the chores, but with the professor with his current state? He doubt that that would actually happen.

\--

  
Hank closed the door, and opened it again. Sadly, that couldn’t magically summon food inside your fridge like you want to. “That would be really cool though. Materialising an actual edible meal out of nowhere.” Hank mused to himself, as he closed the door and slumped on it. “Delivery again, huh?” He sat on one of the chairs in the living room, with a phone near his ear- ordering two boxes of pizza from the nearest Pizza Hut on the area.

  
He didn’t have to wait long, honestly. Hank was thankful for that. And also, his unintentional rude actions towards the delivery guy was completely excusable. One should not wait for pizza, especially if the person was dying from hunger already.  
He carried the boxes of warm pizza upstairs, where Charles’ room is. He scanned the spacious room with one eyebrow raised. Suddenly a mournful whimper reached Hank’s hearing- his whole body turning towards the sound, but he was careful not to damage the pizza. Anything but the pizza.

  
He left Charles’ room and followed the constant sobs. _I_ _s Charles crying? What?_

  
Hank stood outside a room – the room Charles refuse to talk about. Or rather, the person who used to accommodate this room. From where he was standing, he could see Charles’ shivering form on the carpeted floor. A black piece of clothing was draped over his body.

  
“..Charles?”

  
With a tentative step inside, Hank walked towards Charles slowly, unsure of what he should actually do.

  
“Go away.” Came the weak reply.

  
Hank had left the boxes of pizza outside the door, “Charles.. you have to eat. I-I bought some pizza for us.” When he didn’t get a response, he crouched and carded his fingers through his hair. “It’s going to get cold if you don’t move, Charles.” No response.

  
Giving up, Hank got up and walked towards where he left the boxes of pizza. “I’ll leave a box here for you, make sure you eat some. And, sleep on the bed, alright?” He placed the box on a nearby chair, and left.

  
Hank knows nothing about Charles’ past, except that he used to be a great professor who taught about genetics, and that he got into some accident – and that’s the reason why he had gone through years of intense physical rehabilitation.  
But he doesn’t know about why he was on the floor, sobbing, and an absolute mess. He doesn’t know why sometimes, Charles gets all distant and depressed. He doesn’t know why Charles kept calling someone named “Erik”.


	2. Baby Soft Skin Turns Into Leather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and how his day usually goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like it! ^0^  
> Any mistakes are mine, I have no beta.  
> Btw, my titles comes from Melanie Martinez songs,  
> this chapter's title comes from her song, Mrs. Potato Head.

 The light that had seeped in through the windows woke up Charles with an annoyed groan. Hank had opened the curtains before he had left for university. He forced himself to sit up on his bed. It hadn’t been more than five minutes, and Charles already dreaded this day. Despite wanting to just lay back down the mattress and sleep all day, he knew very well that he can’t just ignore his body’s needs. As if on cue, his stomach growled out ferociously.

Charles stood up, stretching out his stiff limbs. He paid special attention on his lower half, as he stretched his legs more. Even though he had underwent physical rehab for his legs to work, he occasionally experienced cramps. Rehab wasn’t really planned, but it was that strenuous process or be a useless cripple for the rest of his already miserable life.

Paying for it was easy, given that he was born in a wealthy family. Even his current house was a ‘small gift’ from his mother, so money wasn’t a real problem for him.

When he had met Hank, the student was looking for a place to live in, since he got kicked out his friend’s house. Charles had offered the young man to be his flatmate for free. Hank, being the humble softie he was, he insisted on paying. They had reached an agreement that Hank will not pay any rent, but he would tend to Charles' house- restocking food, making sure none of the furniture gets ruined, cleaning.

Luckily for him, Hank is a caring person – if not for him, Charles would’ve rotted a long time ago.

Speaking of Hank being his sort-of caretaker, the student had left him a hearty meal – only that it had gone cold.

 

                _‘Reheat it in the microwave_

_-H.’_

“How thoughtful.” The grumpy man tied his brunet hair with a band from his right wrist.

As he was waiting for his meal to heat up, he grabbed a tall drinking glass from one of the built-in cabinets and poured himself some warm water. A loud beeping sound startled him, “Someone has to invent a microwave that doesn’t sound like it’s summoning a microwave Satan, I swear.”

He plugged out his microwave and set his plate on one of the marble countertops. His glass was refilled with water. If he was going to be honest to himself, he’d rather drink some tea, but his supply had unfortunately dwindled out. Sadly for him, his preferred choice of tea wasn’t the ordinary store-bought Lipton. _I have to contact Raven to buy me some_.

 

A day without tea is simply agonizing.

But a whole week? It was hell for Charles.

 

He consumed his meal slowly. It was a meal composed of some sausages, an omelette sprinkled with basil leaves, a bit of green vegetables here and there, finished with berries. _And they say Hank isn’t capable of culinary perfection_.

Charles placed the dishes inside an automatic dish-washing machine and made his way to the living room. Sofas with plush pillows were everywhere. A nice glass coffee table with books underneath, a small chandelier, and his own home cinema. Honestly, he didn't need such luxury. 

Grabbing a book, the brunet sat down on one of the sofas.

 

  _The Selfish Gene_

 

He had read the book a thousand times over, but it still proves to be a very fascinating read. Charles identifies himself as a man of science, but it doesn't mean that he's a complete skeptic about a God and such. Many would disprove of his agnosticism, but he hardly gives a fuck.

 

_"Sex: that bizarre perversion of straightforward replication."_

 

"Eh, he's not wrong."

Speaking of sex and intimacy, Charles' only source of  _action_ is seeing Hank walk around shirtless at times. And he's pretty sure that that doesn't even count. He could almost see Raven shaking her head at him. 

 

_Oh Charles, clinging on to Erik would do you no good, and you should know that better than anyone else. Why not go out and visit a bar or something? You need to move on, brother. Stop moping like a child._

_It's ruining you._

 

Right. 

He wasn't  _clinging_ nor was he  _moping_. He was simply settling on a more quieter life. Charles would never admit that the silence can be deafening sometimes. He would never admit that the bed felt too empty, that the garden became dull, that nothing ever really feels  _there_ anymore.

This was his life now. A dull, monotonous life.

He closed the book and placed it on top of the table and went to his room. His room was impressive, to say the least. Charles sat on his bed, with his back resting on a large, white pillow. A thin, sleek laptop warmed the man's thighs as he surfs the net idly. Nothing was ever exciting, he had nothing to look forward to.

A ringing sound notified him that someone was contacting him through his Skype account. He clicked on the blue icon and answered.

"Emma. What a surprise."

"I had to call to make sure you haven't got eaten by rats in your home."

"Oh darling, there's no rats here but you."

The blonde's upper lip curled into a sneer as they both fell into a short silence before their serious faces morphed into smiling ones. 

"How are you Charles? And I mean, honestly, how? Don't give me the  _'I'm fine'_ bullshit."

He sighed and tucked in a stray hair behind his ear, "Still the same."

_Lonely, and still broken._

Emma opened her mouth as if to say something, but chose to remain silent instead. Her lips were drawn into a fine line, and her eyebrows lightly furrowed. "They're fine, y'know." She leaned closer to her camera, resting her head on her palm. "The kids are getting more active, and it's driving him nuts."

Through Emma's perspective, Charles suddenly looked too old, too worn out. "I didn't need that, Emma."

She merely gave a low hum as a response, not entirely believing what the brunet said, "If you say so. That's all." 

The video call ended, leaving Charles in his deathly silent room.

 

"Oh, Erik."

 

Charles had fallen asleep by the time Hank had gotten home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Selfish Gene" is an actual book written by Richard Dawkins!
> 
> It may seem reaaaaalllly boring at first, but I'll try my best to improve!
> 
> FEEDBACK IS ALSO HIGHLY LOVED


End file.
